


for solitude will also break you with its yearning

by Kaslyna



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen, Martine character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaslyna/pseuds/Kaslyna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She didn't necessarily believe Samaritan was making a better world, but she sure as hell wasn't questioning it, either, especially not when it meant she got to cause harm to the kinds of people the old Martine could only imagine being able to do so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for solitude will also break you with its yearning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karastantons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karastantons/gifts).



> For Analu (I don't know what your Ao3 is now if you ever recovered the old one or changed it, so sorry it's not gifted!), and the Church of Martine's first anniversary. Anyone else who reads this, it's a long story. A little early, but oh well. Enjoy!

Martine Rousseau was proud to claim the title of Samaritan's most mysterious agent. A former agent of the law, she'd seen too many bad people gone free because of too many other corrupt people. She didn't necessarily believe Samaritan was making a better world, but she sure as hell wasn't questioning it, either, especially not when it meant she got to cause harm to the kinds of people the old Martine could only imagine being able to do so. And yet, most of Samaritan's agents did not know this about her; in fact, most of Samaritan did not know much of anything about Martine at all.

Her partner, Jeremy Lambert, was no exception to this norm (though he did try to get to know her, for all the good it did him). He didn't know that Martine had a mother in Amsterdam, a brother in Berlin. Hell, he didn't even know what her real last name was; then again, she didn't know his, either.

Jeremy Lambert didn't know that Martine sometimes went to this particular bar after the days where torturing and attempting to turn one Sameen Shaw, asset of the Machine, just to cool down. He didn't know that she sat there, sipping her glass of whiskey slowly, musing on her reflection in the mirror behind the bar; the newly brunette hair, courtesy of John Greer's orders, was still jarring to Martine. It took a moment to realize sometimes that that was her, that this was her life now; the curls had loosened throughout the long day, and they really weren't similar in build, but it was clear to every agent at Samaritan who Martine was supposed to be now: Samantha Groves, aka Root, analogue interface to the Machine (Sameen Shaw's lover, or perhaps even girlfriend; Martine wasn't sure how deep their relationship had ran, nor did she particularly care, but Greer seemed to enjoy the irony of attempting to break the sociopath with the person she may have felt romantic love for, rather than finding a John Reese or Harold Finch look alike instead).

Martine didn't mind torturing Shaw, not really. Of course she didn't; you had to have the ability to shove any emotions you may or may not have aside in a job like this. But some days, Shaw would sit in stony silence, refusing to even look at Martine, and she could admit it unnerved her. She didn't really know what to do, the torture and the attempts at brainwashing feeling more like going through the motions than progress those days, and while Martine didn't feel any worse about doing it, she did question the point behind continuing their efforts on their days. If Shaw wanted to brood, let her brood, Martine thought; but wisely, she kept her mouth shut, and she did her job, just the way she was supposed to.

Martine smiles wryly down at the whiskey in her glass, and can't help the small sigh that escapes her before she brings the glass to her lips and drains what little remains. She needs a vacation, or a good lay; one of the two is more readily available these days, and Martine sweeps the bar again to see if there's anyone worthy of her time and effort. People have paired off already, some are alone but look too far gone to be any fun, and some look like they just got off work, nervously scanning the bar, the glint of a wedding ring or engagement ring on their left ring fingers. Martine doesn't judge, but she can't help herself from refusing to meet the gazes of those interested parties; adultery can be a messy thing, and Martine doesn't have the time or desire to deal with the potential fallout.

But there's a woman at the end of the bar, and while her curls are red and not brown, her eyes blue and not dark chocolate (not Kara's, Martine refuses to let herself dwell on that for long, refuses to dwell on the pang in her chest at all), and she's giving Martine bedroom eyes, and yeah, Martine's interested. Martine smirks, standing; she's had only one drink, not nearly enough to affect her besides a slight, pleasant buzz and a warm edge to everything, but she puts a little extra sway in her steps as the approaches the woman. She wonders, sometimes, if people ever wonder about her, about who she takes home at night; Martine doesn't exactly hide her predilections towards pretty women and occasionally gruff-looking men, but she also doesn't announce it to the world, and especially not her coworkers.

Her smirk widens as she finally reaches the woman and they exchange introductions; Martine can't help but wonder if Jeremy Lambert knows. She doubts it; he thinks he still might have a chance with Martine, just like he still harbors a bit of a crush on the analogue interface. Poor thing; he really needs to change his tune, fixate only on women who would reciprocate. But then, as Martine full well knows (Kara, Kara, Kara, she thinks to the quickening beat of her pulse as the redhead places a hand on her thigh near her knee), you can't exactly choose who you love and desire, no matter if it's for your own good.

Martine's almost amused by her reputation as Samaritan's most mysterious agent; if only they knew how much of an open book she was with Kara, when Kara could barely speak two sentences to Martine about herself when she was in a good mood.

Martine never dwells on that much, but then, you never truly get over the first time your heart breaks.


End file.
